Mummy, Mum, Mother,
by Joey Potter
Summary: Percy is not a member of the Weasley family anymore. But that doesn't mean Molly has stopped thinking about him as her boy.


Disclaimer: I don't own Percy, Molly or the rest of the Weasleys – everything belongs to J.K. Rowling, except the song, which belongs to Evanescence. If you haven't heard it, you should, because it really fits the story.  
  
A/N: First thing: I'm a Dane, so if I've made some mistakes in grammar or spelling, please forgive me and tell me in a review, so I won't make the same mistakes again. This was inspired by Ella Weasley from the Sugar Quill, the coolest HP website ever.  
  
Mummy, Mum, Mother, ...  
  
"Mummy! Mummy!" The cries emerging from the room on the second floor woke Molly up. The light snoring from Arthur kept sounding, and she got out of bed in silence, so as not to wake him. She fumbled for her wand on the bedside table.  
  
"Lumos," she whispered, when she found it, and the tip of the wand lit up and Molly made her way up the stairs to her son's room.  
  
"Mummy!" Percy cried as she entered the room.  
  
"What's wrong, Percy?" Molly asked her seven-year-old. Percy's head popped out from underneath the blanket.  
  
"There's something over there!" A little arm came out too and pointed to the corner of the room. Molly went over there.  
  
"Percy, dear, it's a chair," she said.  
  
"But it moved! There was something sitting on it!" Percy argued, and Molly could see he was really frightened. She searched the room, finding nothing.  
  
"I don't know what it was, but it's gone now," she told him.  
  
"You must've chased it away," said Percy. The tears on his cheeks had vanished, and he even smiled a bit. Molly smiled back. But then Percy's smile faded.  
  
"What if it comes back?" he asked, his voice shivering. Molly sat down on the edge of his bed.  
  
"If that happens, you tell it that your mummy will come after it!" she said.  
  
"Will that scare it away?" asked a hopeful voice. Molly nodded.  
  
"Yes. A mummy is very dangerous to creatures who scare little boys."  
  
This seemed to satisfy Percy, and he lay down again, while Molly tucked him in.  
  
"Do you think you can sleep now?" she asked, kissing his forehead. Percy's smile faded once again.  
  
"Could you please stay?" he asked. "Just in case he comes back? Then he'll see you and be scared and not dare to come back."  
  
"I will," said Molly, "but not too long." She sat down on the edge of the bed again.  
  
After a few moments, a little hand slid into hers.  
  
***  
  
"Good bye, Percy, be a good boy and make Mummy proud." Molly kissed her eleven-year-old on the forehead. In just a moment, he would board the red train in front on them and be gone until Christmas, away at Hogwarts, just like Bill and Charlie had been.  
  
"Don't worry, Mum, I'll be fine," Percy assured her, before he bent down to say bye-bye to his little sister, Ginny, who had tears in her eyes.  
  
"I want to go too, Percy!" the six-year-old said aloud.  
  
"I'm sorry, Ginny, but you can't. You're too young," Percy said, wiping her tears away.  
  
The train whistled.  
  
"Hey, hurry up, Perce, or you'll miss the train!" shouted Fred, one of Percy's younger brothers.  
  
"Yeah, we don't want to have you hanging around here for another year!" added George, Fred's twin. Percy gave them a sarcastic smile. He was supposed to get on, but instead he turned to his mum, grabbed her hand and squeezed it tight, before he hurried to get on the Hogwarts Express.  
  
***  
  
"Mother, look at this!" Percy's voice once again rang through the Burrow, but this time, he was happy. Happy and proud. He had been made Head Boy, after two years as a Prefect. Molly was proud of him. Second Head Boy in the family, and about to start his seventh and final year at Hogwarts. Of course, he had already decided what he wanted to do when the year was over – he would get a job in the Ministry, just like his father.  
  
The year passed quickly, too quickly, almost. Naturally, Molly was looking forward to have Percy home again, but finishing his last year at Hogwarts would mean that he, too, had grown up, and Molly didn't like the thought of that. Bill and Charlie had grown up, and she rarely saw them anymore. Oh, well, with Percy, it would be different. He wasn't rushing off to some foreign country, he was staying right there, at the Burrow.  
  
The first morning he and Arthur had to leave for the Ministry together, Molly couldn't help but smile. Percy looked so much like his father, and she was sure he would handle this job with perfection.  
  
"Have a nice day, Percy," she said, and Percy smiled, a bit overbearing, but still a real smile.  
  
"Mother, I'm not a child anymore," he said.  
  
"I know, Percy, but you will always be my boy." Molly took his hand in hers, and Percy smiled overbearing again.  
  
"Sure, Mother," he said, "but I have to go now, or I'll be late. I don't want to be late on my first day."  
  
And with that, he let go of her hand.  
  
***  
  
"Molly! Molly! Wake up, you're having a nightmare!" Arthur's voice woke Molly up.  
  
"What happened?" she asked.  
  
"You had a nightmare," Arthur repeated. "About... about Percy."  
  
Molly nodded. She knew what had happened. Once again, she had relived the day Percy left them. The day the family portrait in the living room only contained eight people. She dreamed about Percy every night. Not always the same dream. Sometimes it was dreams of Percy as a little boy, playing with his siblings, or an older Percy, although still a boy, boarding the Hogwarts Express, and then a grown Percy, on his way to work with his father.  
  
And sometimes this dream. She had known it would come tonight. Today, she had looked at some old photos in an album, and she had found that Percy was still in the childhood photos, laughing along with Bill, hugging Ginny, playing chess with Ron... but then she had reached a photo of herself with a little Percy, a photo she had always been fond of, alone for the fact that they were holding hands.  
  
Tears sprang to Molly's eyes as she remembered the photo, and Arthur put a comforting arm around her.  
  
"The photo..." Molly whispered.  
  
"What photo, dear?" Arthur demanded.  
  
"Here..." Molly's hand was shaking when she took the photo from the bedside table, where she had lain it before going to sleep.  
  
"What is it?" Arthur did not understand. He looked at the photo, but didn't see anything but a mother standing besides her son, who had his hands in his pockets.  
  
~*~  
  
When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears  
  
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears  
  
I held your hand through all of these years  
  
But you still have  
  
All of me  
  
~*~ 


End file.
